Echo In My Mind
by YamiRynEnjeru
Summary: Everyone has their own set of problems, getting over them isn't hard, it's coming face to face with what started them that's the trick. Shounenai, eventual Yamishipping, tweaked out characters.


Disclaimer: Surprise, surprise, YRE owns none of the characters/lyrics, only the screwed up mind to find this plot amusing enough to bother writing it.

Warnings: …Basically an AU with tweaked out puppets, forgive me, but I couldn't resist. Shounen-ai. Eventual lemons (not on this site though), swears, violence, all sorts of abuse, confusion, and nonsense… Possible character death much later, but who knows…

Couplings: …Eventual Yamishipping, but worry not, the rest of the cast shall appear and pair up as the fic goes along, and I'm open to suggestions for such.

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Things don't always play out as they are meant to.

'Happily Ever After' doesn't always come true.

And nightmares are sometimes just the precursors to reality…

A broken heart can mend with newfound love and devotion.

A shattered mind can be reconstructed with care and discipline.

Lives can be transformed.

Fates can be rewritten.

But at what cost?...

When does rehabilitation become deterioration?

Optimism nothing more than a façade?

To hide the demons of the heart and mind,

How much is too much?

Before souls are plagued.

Reasons lost.

Is there really such a thing as loving someone too much?...

And if there is…

Who will be there to stop you?...

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"Where are you going again?" he sounded like a suspicious housewife, lips pursing as he readied any complaint against his nosiness with a rant of logical reasoning for his need to worry. He was prepared and well-aware of his, at times, tiresome paranoia.

Bakura merely rolled his eyes. He was used to the questions, the prodding, the ever-unsatisfactory pout that never ceased to mask his lover's face, all born and thriving from the younger's hyperactive pessimism.

"My brother's, Yam-Yam, I told you ten minutes ago." Bakura only used the pet name on the other when he added the softness to his voice, smiling calmly at the other male in reassurance, and cupping his cheek when scarlet eyes began to waver and glance heavily at the door of their apartment. "No. Look at me, Yami." He waited until the slightly shorter boy settled his gaze on Bakura once more, worry and nervousness prominent in the wide, red eyes. "I won't be gone for long, I'll call when I arrive, every hour there after, and again before I leave."

Yami's eyes desperately searched the brown depths for any hint of deception, any lies or ulterior motives in Bakura's voice, but he found nothing save for a solid affirmation of the paler's words, patience he still wondered at, and a stretch of love that wore on indefinitely.

"Alright?..."

A slight smile spread across Yami's face, an unsteady agreement passing his lips as the taller gently brushed his cheek with a calloused thumb. "…Yeah, I'll be fine. …Just hurry home… ?..." A hopeful hitch in his voice, but he didn't press the manner of request, instead Yami accepted the chaste kiss on his lips and brow, quick to edge away from Bakura before he could watch the paler open that dreadful door.

Sighing silently to himself so his smaller lover couldn't hear, Bakura waited until Yami was around the corner before taking his keys and jacket, bracing the door as he opened and closed it for his exit so it wouldn't squeak, the quiet click of the locks falling into place before he pulled away and donned his jacket.

Well, that had gone quite smoothly, perhaps Yami really was sticking to his regiment of medications finally, the doctor would be quite pleased and relieved to hear this… should the trend continue through the next appointment.

That thought aside, the white-haired young man guided himself through the mundane twist of hallways before reaching fresh air, a quick glance in the lobby revealing nothing of interest, and with a final glance at the apartment complex, he strode off quickly lest he worry Yami for the extended wait on his phone call.

Said red-eyed boy was currently tucked beneath the kitchen table, watching through the legs of chairs as he held his breath, waiting still for the sound of the closing door and twist of locks to diminish. Speckles of light began to dance before his vision, the ringing of his ears reminding Yami that breathing again was becoming necessary, but he held out, waiting until his fingers felt numb. It didn't take long for him to burst into a fit of gasps and trembles though, blinking widely as he peered hesitantly through the chairs' legs once he began to swallow air shallowly. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as his mind darted to the fact he knew he had to crawl out from his self-acclaimed safety spot.

He didn't want to.

…But he needed to.

For Bakura.

Yami owed it to the other, after everything he'd done for the tri-color haired youth, facing impractical fears alone seemed like a fair trade even to him. Lower lip then caught between his teeth, Yami began to hum to himself, just as the doctor had taught him for when the boy wished to follow through with something difficult. Everything was always harder, more impossible, and terribly daunting when he didn't have Bakura by his side to aid him, and so singing meekly to himself had become quite common practice.

"…Rain, rain… Go away… C-come again another day…" his voice cracked along with the seemingly deafening scrape of the chair against the tiles as he moved it, a shudder racing across his lithe body as he suddenly felt overly exposed to the rest of the kitchen, as well as the world, even though he was still nestled beneath the table like a frightened kitten.

"A-all the world… Is waiting for… the s-sun…" A little more hurried, but he tried to focus on his words and voice rather than the blood pounding mercilessly in his ears, rendering him deaf and dizzy as he crawled on quivering hands and knees. His arms shook and his legs trembled, but Yami kept his crossing vision on the spotless floor, unfocused and not really seeing anything as waves of nausea began to pummel his body. "Is it you I want… Or just the n-notion… notion of…" He had to swallow several times to keep the acidic taste of bile from overrunning his mouth, scarlet eyes slipping shut tightly enough to hurt while his fingers curled against the cold floor, the sound of short nails biting through the tiles clanging like alarms against his skull. "A heart to wrap around… so I c-can find my… my way around…"

Almost there.

"Safe to say… f-from here, …You're getting closer now…"

So close it pained him to realize it.

Throat going unbearably dry a moment, Yami hummed a few more lines to himself, trying to force his breath to stabilize to something manageable as his fingertips scuttled him along, the grind of his jeans brushing across the floor following him.

"T-to lie here… Under you… Is all…" Whimpers began to escape him as he could almost feel the protective shadow of the table slide over his body the further he inched out, having grown aware of just how far he had drawn himself out when his sock-clad foot bumped against the leg of the table. "…Is all… Is all… Is a… Is…" Minuscule sobs shook his frail frame as he suddenly couldn't remember any more of the song, the glaring blankness of his mind terrifying the youth as he tried desperately, finding that he couldn't even recall the few lines he had just sung.

Yami then tried to reason with himself, snatching his thoughts from the fears insisting on clouding his mind. He was too far out to turn back now and huddle in the 'safe' confines beneath the table, not that he thought he could even manage to slip back under it considering how forcibly his body was shaking, limbs locked in place as well, casting him as a prisoner within his own skin. What would Bakura think of him if he saw Yami acting like this? Unable to control such a minute terror attack. Unable to feel secure in their apartment. …Unable to stand being left alone…

Each problem on its own wouldn't have been a surprise, even all three as they were at the moment in a bundle wouldn't have surprised his pale lover in the least… several weeks or months ago.

He was supposed to be past this, he was supposed to be better! Day by day, week after agonizing week, Yami had shown improvement, going so far as to not hate his doctor's visits to their apartment, actually brewing coffee for them all and happily gushing over his baby-step achievements. Everything had been going so well…

Shameful tears left searing tracks over his cheeks, what little warmth they provided breaking through to him enough to allow the boy to consciously force his body into motion. Grasping on to the fact his hand was gliding a tiny, precious distance forward, Yami felt his vision surge into clarity, strangled gasp escaping his throat as he felt panic waver and creak a pitch higher in his skull. He wanted his pale lover's help so badly…

"…Ba… Bakura…"

A hushed sob, raspy voice choked back by salty tears staining his lips, the impending faint that began to darken his vision weakening Yami with each jerkily, mechanical stride he pitched himself along the now seemingly icy tiles.

And when he finally reached the grainy surface of the lower cabinet drawers, his bowed head causing his spiky array of tricolor locks to brush and bend against the flat, wooden plane of the doors, he felt such a rush of pride and raw relief, that Yami cracked a shaky smile, fear and anxiety dripping away in slivers. The table had to be at least several feet away if he had made it there, and all by himself! As alive with self-satisfaction and glee as he was, the red-eyed youth was also all too aware of the strain he had undergone the past few moments, his dusky skin was clammy, appendages numb, and a migraine was thundering and rendering him blind.

But he had done it.

"…Kura'll… be… be so happy…"

Another smile, but Yami couldn't manage to don it for too long as his body gave up waiting on him to rest fully and simply collapsed it self into a crumpled heap, slight chest flaring with hungry breaths and a steadily calming heartbeat. Exhaustion claimed his drained form in totality, chinks of scarlet hiding behind drawn lids and a thick brush of lashes as Yami went limp and fell into a dreamless state of automated rest… the droning ring of a telephone going unnoticed amidst the deafening silence of the youth's sleep.

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